


Revival

by LoveDrift



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Affection, Established Relationship, Hope, Hurt/Comfort, I have a thing for snow lately., Loss, M/M, Sobbing, Tears, spoilers for MTMTE from issue 16 and up.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 19:24:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1659683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveDrift/pseuds/LoveDrift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Drift's exile from the Lost Light he sets course for Theophany, which is in the process of being rebuilt by the remaining Knights that have returned. Drift seeks out Wing and finds spark-ache on the anniversary of Wing's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revival

**Author's Note:**

> Redline and Axe are bonded Conjunx Endura and have been for quite some time. Wing is their creation in the adopted sense of the word. The Knights have returned after the events on Luna 1. I suppose it's an AU, but hey, it's born of my crazy mind...lol I do so hope you all enjoy. As for spoilers...eh...just mentions of things, nothing major.

“Oh, Axe…I miss him so much,” Redline leans heavily into his bonded as they make their way to Wing’s mausoleum. The day suits their mood: cold and grey with an icy drizzle, as if the world itself was crying. Axe was all the medic had left. His beautiful creation, their beautiful creation gone; Theophany still in ruins after the attack… Dai Atlas, their oldest and dearest friend-gone. It is almost too much to bear.

Axe pulls his mate closer, kissing the top of his helm as they come to a stop in front of the mausoleum. “I know, love…I know. I miss him so very much as well. Our Winglet shined brighter than the sun. He w-was…he…forgive me…” The large triple changers vocalizer shorts out, as he too is overwhelmed by emotion on the anniversary of their Wing’s death. The pain has never ceased to be as potent as it was on that fateful day. 

Redline turns into Axe, wrapping his arms as far around the purple and black mech as he can, tears making small rivers down his cheeks. “There is nothing to forgive, my love. I am the one who beseeches forgiveness. I could only repair our creation in death, not in life,”

“Red…” Axe envelopes his mate in his arms, leaning down to nuzzle him. They go through this every year: Redline blaming himself for not being able to save Wing. If only Axe could take away Red’s pain and unwarranted guilt. It breaks his spark. 

“Red, no. There was nothing you could have done. It was too late. Please stop beating yourself up. Please, my love. Please.” Axe soothingly rubs Redlines back and tucked in wings, flooding their bond with love and comfort, under the watchful eye of the mausoleum, looming in stark relief before them.

***

Drift couldn’t help himself. He knew coming back would hurt. And oh did it hurt. Crushingly, intimately, brutally, hurt. It didn’t matter that several of the knights had returned and started to rebuild. It didn’t matter that the mausoleum that held his beautiful Wing was almost completed. It didn’t matter that life was returning to Theophany, because the one thing that had given it life-to him- was now laying in that cold, practically roofless building, dead. Drift intakes deep trying to pull calm from somewhere as he makes his way over to Wing, unclipping his side scabbards and dropping them along the way. Never has the Great Sword on his back felt heavier. His intakes catch as he stands in front of Wing. 

“Wing…oh Wing…I…” A choked out, spark breaking sob wrenches free from Drift; tears bursting from his optics. Without a second thought he climbs on top of the jet and curls around him. He buries his face in Wing’s cold neck, clutching his frame and sobbing hysterical, choking, spark-breaking sobs. All of Drift’s pain, all of his anguish, everything he has ever felt and endured comes rushing out in a torrent of agonizing screams and gasping, broken wails.

“Please! Please come back to me! Please! I need you! PLEASE!!! I love you, Wing! I love you so much! I never got the chance to tell you…b-but I do…Primus, I have loved you forever, Wing! Primus please bring him back to me! PLEASE! Please just come back to me! I’m so lost…I’m scared and alone…I NEED you, Wing…I n-need you…you are everything to me. You made me who I am today…if it wasn’t for you…I…Wing…” Drift’s tears continue to flow, seeping into Wing’s neck, the speedster’s sobs and whimpers filling the tomb. The drizzle gives way to snow, which softly falls through the gap in the mausoleum roof, blanketing the living and the dead.

***

Redline and Axe embrace each other in silence outside, the wind whipping snow around them, wrapping both mechs in an icy misery. 

Redline pulls back a little and cants his helm, listening. “Do you hear that?”

Axe frowns and looks down at his Conjunx, concern filling his optics, his hold on Redline tightening, “Hear what, love?”

Redlines wings twitch and he turns up his audial’s; Drift’s sobbing and spark-felt pleas carrying on the wind. “Someone is inside and they’re…they are sobbing, Axe!” Redline breaks free from Axe and rushes inside the mausoleum, Axe right behind him.

Both mechs cease their forward rush inside, coming to an abrupt halt as they take in the spark-breaking sight before their optics: Drift is completely curled around Wing, sobbing brokenly, the Great Sword on his back softly glowing, drawing spark energy from Drift without the swordsmech even knowing he is doing it.

And Redline had thought his spark couldn’t become any heavier, “Oh Axe…” The medic looks up at his bonded, tears falling anew and shakes his helm, his gaze once again falling upon the desolate Drift, the glow from the Great Sword not even registering to the medic.

“I know, Red, I know…” The large mech pulls Redline into his arms once more, planting a tender kiss on the medic’s helm, “...but we should let him grieve in private,”

 

“We can’t leave him, my darling…he’s hurt,” Redline points to the trail of energon leading to Wing, “and he’s probably hungry and…my darling, he needs us.”

“Aye, that he does,” Axe lays another kiss on Redline and the couple makes their way to Drift. 

Axe approaches Drift and very gently taps the trembling mechs arm, “Drift?”

Drift practically jumps out of his rattling plating at the touch, his face leaving Wing’s neck to focus on the jets face, “W-Wing?!”

Axe’s spark sinks, “No, lad, it’s me…and Redline. I am so, so very sorry,” What Axe is apologizing for, he has no idea, but the spark breaking look of hope that flashed and then died across the young swordsmechs face as he turned to face them was enough to give him cause to do so.

Drift turns back to Wing and hangs his helm in misery, tears still streaming down from his optics, “O-Oh… I-I…I’m sorry…I just…” 

“Oh, Drift…” Axe shakes his helm, turning to look helplessly at his mate.


End file.
